That Figgis Agency Show
by Red Witch
Summary: The guys do some late-night bonding.


**I can't remember what happened to the disclaimer that I don't own any Archer characters. This time I thought I would use a theme found in another show I like. Warning to impressionable minds, there is the use of drugs and alcohol is this fic. But let's be honest. If you've ever seen Archer or That 70's Show you know what you're getting into.**

 **This takes place shortly after the story Oh That Figgis! This is…**

 **That Figgis Agency Show **

"Well Cyril," Ray remarked to Cyril as they sat with Krieger in the bullpen. "Lana is pissed at you. Ms. Archer is pissed at you. So, how's running your own agency with your ex-girlfriend and your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend's mother going?"

"Well my week isn't complete unless I piss off Lana and Ms. Archer in some way," Cyril groaned.

"Yeah but this time you really raised the bar," Ray chuckled as he took a drink of scotch.

"I'm glad my pain is so amusing to you," Cyril gave him a look. "Speaking of pains where are Pam and Cheryl? The Disastrous Duo?"

"Oh they snuck out hours ago to go to a bar or something," Krieger waved.

"Some work ethics those two have," Cyril grumbled. "And by some, I mean absolutely **none** at all."

"Lana and Ms. Archer went out to visit Archer again so they won't be coming back," Ray said. "So, it's just us."

"Super…" Cyril groaned.

"It's just good to hang out with the guys every now and then," Krieger said. "Get away from those annoying chicks."

"Mitsuko's giving you a hard time, again isn't she?" Ray sighed.

"I can't even shut her off now!" Krieger snapped. "I think she just runs around from mainframe to mainframe. Just goes off doing who knows what all over the internet. Just galivanting around having the time of her life."

"I don't know why I keep screwing up with Lana," Cyril groaned. "I thought it would be easier with Archer in a coma but that's so getting in the way of setting a romantic mood."

"The other day I caught her speaking Dutch," Krieger frowned. "And muttering something about Julian Assange. That can't be good."

"Archer isn't even here and he's **still** screwing up my life!" Cyril groaned.

"I know," Ray nodded. "You're doing that perfectly well on your own without any help from him!"

"I hope to god she picks up some kind of virus," Krieger grumbled. "Because I ain't touching **that** again. Not without a thorough scan or something."

"Cyril, you gotta let go of this!" Ray said. "And Krieger you really need to get an **actual date.** "

"You think I don't know that I need to get over Lana?" Cyril snapped. "It's not like I haven't tried!"

"Not very hard," Ray countered. "From what I saw of the sex robots."

"Very lifelike robots," Cyril said. "The Lana Bot even nagged like the real one."

"It wasn't just the Lana Bot," Krieger sighed. "I tell you even when you try to program your sex robot to not criticize you they still do!"

Ray looked at Krieger. "Seriously man. Meet a real woman. Go to a bar. A coffee shop. Even Tinder would be a step up for you."

"Is that a club or something?" Krieger asked.

"I'm not going to tell him," Cyril groaned. " **You** tell him."

"Some other time," Ray waved.

"I just feel so miserable," Cyril groaned. "My business is failing. My love life is practically non-existent."

"Me too," Krieger groaned. "Our lives have pretty much gone to hell."

"I know," Ray said. "If only there was some magical herb that could make us all feel better?"

Ray then smirked.

Twenty minutes later…

Cyril blew out a puff of smoke and laughed. "God, I love California."

Ray nodded and passed the blunt around. "And this is the really good stuff. All I needed was a doctor's note. Thank you, Krieger, for the note."

Krieger nodded. "Thank this other guy I know who had legitimate doctor's prescription pads. It makes getting medication for parties so much easier."

Ray smirked. "Not as easy as when my uncle and my Daddy grew a whole batch of weed behind the barn. Daddy and my brother Randy used to spend hours back there. Huh…In hindsight I probably should have seen that pot farm coming."

Cyril snickered. "This is great. You know I never did things like this before I met you guys."

Ray gave him a look. "No? **Really?"**

Back to Cyril. "Yes! I never took a hit of pot until I started at the agency. Not even in high school."

"Really?" Ray asked. "In my high school, even the teachers smoked joints to get through classes."

Cyril shook his head. "No. Seriously. I never even thought about taking drugs. I was the president of the Just Say No chapter in my high school."

Krieger looked at Cyril. "I'm guessing you also didn't get laid in high school."

Cyril looked outraged. "I was popular! I **was**! I was the head of the swim team! I was on the golf team! I was captain of the Math-aletes. Head of the Debate Club and part of the Chess Club."

" _Chess Club?"_ Ray snickered. "Dude I was in Band and even **we** beat up those guys."

"Me too!" Krieger said. "The band I mean. I was on drums. What were you?"

"Trumpet," Ray said.

Cyril gave him a look. "I can see that. You really know how to blow. Heh, ha, ha!"

Ray looked at him. "Were you also in a comedy club?"

Cyril shook his head. "No, but I was an anchor on our school's news show. He. He…"

Krieger spoke up. "This just in. Cyril's toasted!"

Cyril laughed. "I am! I am!"

Milton then beeped and then spat out some toast.

"He's **toasted**!" Krieger corrected. "Not…Oh never mind!"

Ray looked. "How long has Milton been there?"

Krieger waved. "Who remembers?"

Cyril had a look in his eyes. "Deborah Barnstorm."

"What?" Ray asked.

Cyril sighed. "That was the girl I had a major crush on in high school. She co-founded the Just Say No Club with me. She only did it so she would have something on her college application. But I didn't care. I would have done anything for that girl."

Krieger smirked. "And the mystery starts to clear up."

Ray asked. "So did you get anywhere or did Deborah Barnstorm just say no?"

Cyril sighed. "She said maybe. **Maybe** I'll go to the dance with you, Cyril? **Maybe** I'll go on a date with you Cyril? **Maybe** I'll make out with you Cyril and let you feel me up under the bleachers while my idiot drunken boyfriend is making an ass of himself? Actually, that last one she **did** let me do. She only did it to make her boyfriend jealous."

Ray looked at Krieger. "I'm sensing a pattern."

Krieger nodded. "Me too."

Milton beeped.

Cyril snorted. "Joke was on her. He dumped her that night to be with this senior who let him do it. I mean he did punch me in the stomach so I puked all over her dress. But I could tell his heart wasn't into it."

Krieger asked. "So, did you get into Deborah Barnstorm?"

"No," Cyril sighed. "After I threw up on her dress she stormed out of the dance leaving me there. Then she had sex with this **other** guy she was fooling around with and got pregnant by him. Her parents pulled her out of school to send her to some kind of reform school for knocked up bitches. Never saw her again."

"Wow," Ray looked at Cyril. "Again. A pattern."

Cyril had a look on his face. "I hope those nuns whacked that bitch's ass with a ruler! That's right! Cry bitch cry! That will teach you to be such a tease! Go on! Beg! Beg for forgiveness bitch!"

Krieger blinked. "That fantasy is kind of disturbing even for me."

Milton beeped again.

Ray nodded. "You said it Milton."

Cyril blinked. "What were we talking about again?"

"It doesn't matter," Ray sighed.

Cyril laughed. "Wow. I am having fun. I am really having fun. I never knew smoking pot could be this much fun. If the gang from the Just Say No Club could see me now. Hey guys did you know I was the president of the Just Say No Club back in my high school?"

"You may have mentioned something like that," Ray sighed.

Krieger snickered. "Now you are part of the Just Say Blow Club."

Cyril laughed wildly. "Just Say Blow! It's funny because it's a play on words of Just Say No. Ha, ha, ha!"

Milton beeped. And shot out some toast.

Cyril gasped. "Oh! Toast! I could go for toast!"

"That's why I made him," Krieger pointed at Milton.

Ray looked at Milton. "You know I always wondered about that."

"Ooh! Bread!" Cyril giggled as he grabbed some toast and started eating it.

"I could go for something," Ray said. "Could you go for something?"

"I could go for something," Krieger said.

Milton popped out more toast.

"Not that!" Krieger told Milton.

"You know guys I'm having fun," Cyril said between bites. "I really am."

Ray gave him a look. "We noticed."

Cyril took another bite. "You know something. I don't care if Archer isn't here. I'm glad he's in a coma! He **deserves** it! I'm eating his toast and I'm happy! Ha! Ha!"

Krieger shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some mixed emotions. Yeah, I'm sad Archer is in a coma. On the other hand, the scotch has lasted a lot longer than usual so…"

Ray was now eating some toast. "You know? I like bread. I know it goes straight to my thighs but I really like bread."

Krieger was now eating some toast. "Who am I kidding? Bread is f$$#$#-ing awesome!"

Cyril was eating more toast. "It is, isn't it? Who invented toast? Does anybody know?"

Krieger was still eating toast. "Well whoever did was a f$$#$$#-ing genius I'll tell you that much. And that's me saying it!"

Ray was thinking. "Did God invent toast?"

Cyril looked at Ray. "Weren't you a minister? Wouldn't you know that question if he did?"

Ray thought. "Oh right. I was a minister. Wow those few years were a trip."

"You know what's really good on bread?" Krieger said. "Cinnamon and butter. Cinnamon and butter are da bomb!"

Ray thought. "Did they have toast in the Garden of Eden? I'll bet they did. They probably had a tree filled with toast. You could pick a toast right off the branch and enjoy its crunchy goodness."

Cyril looked at Ray. "They did **not** have toast trees in the Garden of Eden!"

Ray looked at Cyril. "How do you know?"

"Well if they did then why did Eve take that apple?" Cyril snapped. "Huh? Why have a stupid apple when there are toast trees just ripe for the plucking?"

Ray looked at Cyril. "Maybe Eve wanted to make jam? How should I know?"

Krieger thought. "Toast. Toast. What a funny word. Toaaaaast."

Cyril laughed. "Guys…We **are** toast! HA HA HA HA!"

Ray snickered. "I get it…He he…"

"Me too!" Krieger snorted. "Toast…"

"God I love being high," Ray sighed. "It was one of the few things that made going to high school bearable. Well that and Mr. Pineridge my track coach. Damn he was hot."

"Too bad you can't hold your pot," Krieger snorted.

"I can hold my pot plenty!" Ray snapped. "I hold it better than…Well better than Cyril!"

Cyril was laughing his head off. "Tooooooooooooooasst!"

"Not exactly setting the bar that high," Krieger snorted. "Besides, didn't you once tell me that your brother was the expert at rolling joints in your family?"

Ray waved. "The only reason Randy got better at rolling joints than me was that Daddy taught him and not me. Plus he and Randy were always spending time in the secret greenhouse growing stuff. Never let me join."

Krieger did a double take. "Dude, you so should have seen that pot farm coming."

Ray thought. "Eh, probably should have."

Cyril sighed. "God. When I think of all the time I wasted in high school being sober. It really makes you think you know? You know? What were we talking about?"

Ray said. "I'm pretty sure your dad the Superintendent wouldn't have approved."

"Oh let's not talk about **him,"** Cyril waved. "He's a buzzkill."

Krieger nodded. "If there's one thing you don't want to kill, it's a good buzz. Toast…"

Cyril sighed. "You know guys, you're the best friends I ever had. I mean it. I have never been as close to any guys as I am to you. You cats are beautiful man."

Krieger nodded. "And Cyril…You're tolerable as long as we're high. Fortunately, that's pretty much twenty-four seven around here so…"

Cyril teared up. "Aww…"

Ray sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this but I actually do feel the same way. Man, I'm wasted."

Cyril sighed. "I just wish Lana and I were cool again. You know? Why is she so mad at me?"

Ray looked at him. "Well just off the top of my head, you're an insecure cheating asshole."

Cyril gave him a look. "So is everyone else around here."

Ray looked at him again. "And just recently you got caught having sex with a robot that looked just like her."

Cyril rolled his eyes. "Again, so did **everyone else**! What's your point?"

Ray gave him a look. "I guess women are just crazy."

"Tell me about it!" Krieger snorted. "And you would think that being able to program a woman would make a difference, right? Spoiler alert: It **doesn't!** Sooner or later it's always about her needs! Her needs! What needs? I programmed you to not have any needs! How can **you** have **needs?"**

"I don't get where I went wrong with Lana," Cyril was confused. "I really don't."

Krieger looked at him. "You cheated on her dude."

Cyril waved. "It wasn't just that."

"That's true," Ray said. "Because if that was it Lana would have kicked Archer's ass to the curb a long, long, long, long, long time ago. I mean literally kicked it. I mean…"

"Yeah, I know what you're saying," Krieger nodded. "She would have physically removed Archer's ass with her monster hands and used her huge feet to kick it onto the curb. Leaving a big bloody mess. I saw where you were going there."

Ray shook his head. "I am so glad I'm gay."

Cyril groaned. "Lucky bastard."

Ray looked at Cyril. "Cyril. You need to shake things up. Get out to a bar or something and find another woman. Krieger, you need to get out period and find **any woman**. Damn I'm good. I should have my own talk show."

Cyril nodded. "I would watch that."

Kreger agreed. "Me too!"

"I should have my own talk show," Ray nodded. "It's about time a gay person had their own talk show! Oh wait…"

Milton beeped several times.

Cyril nodded. "Truer words were never spoken."

Milton beeped a few more times. Then popped out some toast.

"Wow," Krieger looked at Milton. "That's deep man."

Ray looked at the toaster. "Damn Milton. Maybe you should have your own talk show?"

Krieger's eyes widened. "Guys! Guys! I just figured out what we should do next! We should make our own TV cable network!"

"What?" Cyril asked.

"That's the next phase of our lives!" Krieger said. "We should make our own channel!"

"You want to start our own TV network?" Cyril asked.

"Why not?" Krieger asked. "Guys I have enough footage from our old days in the spy biz to run a series of spy mishaps for years. World's Wackiest Spies!"

"Krieger," Cyril sighed. "You can't make a cable TV station work just by running one show. Even FXX has to take a break from the Simpsons once in a while. Twice a week actually…"

"There's **other** stuff!" Krieger said. "Ray's talk show! Milton's talk show! Pam and Cheryl could have a talk show!"

"With those two it would be more like a freak show," Ray snickered. "Although I do admit I would want to watch that program."

"Exactly!" Krieger shouted.

"Huh," Cyril blinked. "You know I always wanted to get into television."

"Right?" Krieger said. "And let's face it, this whole detective thing is starting to get a little played out."

"How hard could it be?" Ray shrugged. "If Comedy Central can do it…"

"But what about programming?" Cyril asked.

Ray waved. "Oh my God I can come up with like twenty shows on the top of my head. Angry Judge Archer. Ms. Archer sits in a courtroom yelling at stupid people about their stupid arguments."

Krieger nodded. "I'd watch that."

"My talk show," Ray went on. "Milton's talk show…"

"Talking with Toast," Krieger added.

Ray added. "A talk show with Pam and Cheryl. But instead of them being all buddy-buddy…They spend part of the show insulting and fighting each other. And I mean real fights with…"

Cyril interrupted. "With knuckles and weapons. Yeah I see where you're going with that."

Ray went on. "Krieger, you can do some kind of science show…Oh! You can also do some kind of home shopping thing for crazy scientists!"

"I do have an extra miniature proton accelerator I never use," Krieger realized.

"We can call it the Spy Shopping Network!" Ray added. "Or the Science Store!"

Krieger added. "Krieger's Closet! Oooh! We could have a fashion segment for the well-dressed scientist!"

"I gotta get some paper," Cyril looked around. "We gotta write these down because this is all gold!"

"Oh I got one!" Krieger said. "You know those TV shows where they have mechanics restoring cars? I could do a show restoring…Wait for it…I restore jet packs! No wait…Spaceships! Pimp My Spaceship! Particle accelerators! Pimp My Particle Accelerator!"

"I would be great in my own talk show," Ray sighed. "Ooh! The **news**! I could be a news anchor! A gay news channel! Hang on that's what the E Network is for."

"Did you know there's this car that runs on water?" Krieger asked. "Literally on water! Not on top of water but water as its power source!"

Ray looked at Krieger. "We've had this argument before man. Let it go."

Krieger told him. "I could make cars that run on water. Both literally and figuratively! Pimp My Aqua Car bitches!"

Cyril looked around. "Paper! I need paper damn it!"

Milton shot out some toast.

"Not toast!" Cyril snapped. "Paper!"

"Okay," Ray said. "We're going to need lots of paper, markers, pens, scotch…And something to eat besides toast because my mouth is getting dry."

Milton popped out some toaster strudel.

"Now we're talking," Ray snickered.

Several hours later…

"I don't know why I'm shocked," Mallory sighed as she and Lana looked at the sight in the bullpen. "I shouldn't be shocked by now. But I am."

"Can't leave them alone for a minute," Lana groaned. "Is **this** why you micromanage us?"

"As the kids say," Mallory gave her a look. "Duh!"

"Kind of see your point now," Lana sighed.

The men of the Figgis Agency were all passed out on couches and chairs. Open bottles of scotch were on the tables. The burnt out remains of a couple of blunts were found. Dozens of scattered papers with writing on them were everywhere. As well as half eaten pieces of toast and strudel.

"To be fair this isn't the biggest mess they ever made," Lana sighed. "They're even actually dressed."

"And that makes it **better?** " Mallory glared at Lana.

"It doesn't make it **worse,** " Lana sighed. "You want me to…?"

"No, I've got this," Mallory said. "It will be the **highlight** of my day."

That's when Mallory used her fingers to make a high-pitched whistle. "OWWW!" Ray whined as he woke up.

"AGGGH!" Krieger yelled.

"My brain broke!" Cyril whined. "It hurts…"

"I was right," Mallory made an evil smirk. "It was the highlight of my day. What the hell are you idiots doing **now**?"

"Is it morning already?" Ray yawned.

"Man, time flies when you're getting high huh?" Krieger yawned.

"Idiots," Mallory groaned. "Just feckless…idiots."

"So basically, you three just got drunk and high all night," Lana gave them a look.

"Hey!" Krieger protested. "If we didn't have drunken drug fueled binges at work we'd never show up on time the next day at all!"

"Besides," Cyril sniffed. "We didn't just get drunk and high…We were doing something important. What were we doing again?"

"Coming up with TV shows for our new cable channel," Krieger told him.

"Say what now?" Lana gave them a skeptical look.

"We were coming up with ideas on what to do with the agency next," Ray explained.

"While getting drunk and smoking pot?" Lana asked.

"It's called brainstorming!" Ray protested.

"More like brain cell killing," Lana remarked.

"We were thinking of ideas for new shows," Cyril picked up a few papers and handed one to Mallory. "Some of them were pretty good."

"And by pretty good I'm guessing that means pretty stupid?" Lana asked.

"You know…?" Cyril gave her a look.

"Let me see that. Judge Mallory," Mallory read the paper. "Mallory yells at people who come to her with problems and judges them. And she yells at them."

"We figured that was a natural for you," Krieger explained.

"I could get **paid** for yelling at idiots and telling them they're idiots?" Mallory asked.

"I know," Cyril said. "You do that for free all the time."

"Huh," Mallory blinked.

Lana looked at another piece of paper. "The Floopy Floop Show. Floopity floop, floop. And then just a bunch of squiggles followed by the word toast like ten times."

"We were free associating a lot," Krieger shrugged.

Lana looked at Ray. "You brought the good stuff, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah," Ray nodded.

"Mallory Hates Trudy Beekman," Mallory read another paper. "Mallory Archer yells and then shoots at Trudy Beekman. I have to admit some of these ideas have merit."

"We are not turning this agency into the next WKRP!" Lana snapped.

"Well since technically WKRP was a radio show…" Krieger corrected.

"Who the hell cares?" Lana snapped. "Coming up with ideas of what to do with our agency while half-baked and plastered is stupid!"

Cyril challenged. "And how sober was Archer when he came up with the idea that we should all be detectives?"

Lana paused. "You have a point."

"Can't argue with that one," Mallory groaned.

"At least we were **trying** to come up with ideas!" Cyril snapped.

"I admit the Beekman one is mildly amusing," Mallory sighed. "But I am not going to let you idiots continue to get all reefer madness on my dime! Ray are there any more marijuana cigarettes?"

"Uhhh…." Ray paused.

"Give it!" Mallory held out her hand. Ray gave his remaining blunt to her. "After I visit Sterling I am going to get rid of this thing once and for all!"

Later that day.

Mallory snickered as she let out a puff of smoke. "I said I'd get rid of it. I didn't say **how**! HA!"

Ron was in the room with her. "You said **how**! HA HA HA! HA! Oh god that's funny!"

Mallory let out a breath. "God this really is the good stuff. I'll give Ms. Gillette this, she can really find some righteous chronic."

Ron thought a moment. "You know something? I think there should be a law stating that if you reach a certain age, you can have all the drugs you want. Think about it. Most old people take drugs anyway? What's the harm of taking some more?"

"Although it really shouldn't surprise me now that I think about it," Mallory added. "Ray's brother ran a drug farm! How did I not see **that** coming?"

Ron went on. "So, some eighty something old guy wants to puff some reefer? As long as he's not driving a Buick what's the harm? Harm. That's a strange word. Harrrrrrmmm."

Mallory snickered. "Now I remember why I keep these idiots around. God, I haven't had stuff this good since Sterling was in his teens and snuck out to that concert. He had it in his jeans. Of course, I was going to find it. That and that broken condom."

Ron snickered. "You know? This stuff is better than that time I smoked reefer with those Jazz cats. Did I ever tell you about that?"

Mallory sighed. "I haven't felt this good in months."

"Me too," Ron snorted. "You know what's funny? This is the best night of our marriage we've ever had. Shame I won't be able to remember most of it."

"I know," Mallory realized. "We should get smashed every night. Then I could forget how boring you are."

Ron added. "And I can forget what an emasculating bitch you are."

Mallory asked. "Why the hell did we get married? We had a good thing just fooling around! Why did we ruin it?"

Ron snorted. "Beats the hell out of me. What were we **thinking?"**

Mallory snorted. "This marriage was pretty much a mistake for both of us, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Too bad we're going back straight into denial the minute we sober up."

Milton then made a beeping noise.

Mallory looked at Milton. "How the hell did you get here?"

Ron asked. "You didn't bring that?"

Mallory shook her head. "No. At least I'm pretty sure I didn't."

Milton made a noise and popped out some toast.

"Ooh!" Ron's eyes widened. "There's toast?"

"How did you get into my house?" Mallory asked. "You don't even have hands!"

"Who cares?" Ron took a slice of toast. "There's toast!"

Mallory grabbed a slice and ate it. "I **love** bread…" She purred. "I just **love** bread. Don't tell Pam this but I **love** bread. Too bad it goes straight to my thighs."

Milton beeped.

"Oh, shut up!" Mallory snapped as she took another bite.


End file.
